The Final Moments of Booker DeWitt
by Omniwriter1234
Summary: Booker DeWitt or Zachary Comstock? What was he thinking when he realized to stop it all he had to die?


Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own ay recognizable and/or licensed material appearing in this work of fiction in any way, shape, and/or form neither am I attempting to and/or making a monetary profit from this work of fiction in any way, shape, and/or form with all recognizable and/or licensed material appearing in this work of fiction belonging to their respective owners in every way, shape, and/or form under the law.

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No, no, no!

I..I can't be...that..that wasn't me! I am not Comstock!

...but, I am.

I can deny it all I want, I can say I would never turn into this but what type of fool lies to himself? What type of fool does something like that? Oh, I've seen plenty of fools but none of them that stupid. In the end, the only truth you can rely on is you, the only one you will always know is yourself. And I know myself, I know how...I know how...Dear God, I don't want to say this but...but I know how Comstock thinks. I know how lost he was after Wounded Knee because I know how lost I was after that hell, the hell I made for myself. I wanted salvation, I wanted to forget it all, I wanted to...I wanted to be reborn.

And I was, I was reborn as Zachary Comstock, the man who tortured his own daughter, who tortured MY daughter.

I can't call me and that monster of a man one and the same, I can't accept someone like that. I can't accept that Comstock IS me.

No...no I'm wrong, I'm damn wrong. The truth is, I can accept it. I can accept that Comstock is me because in the end I'm not a damn bit better than him. I SOLD my daughter, I SOLD her to a man I didn't bother looking into because I was a man deep in debt and terrified over what they would do to me, I was scared for myself and so I handed her over almost without a second thought. It doesn't matter that I regretted it, it doesn't matter what I did after that because in the end I still sold her, I sold her and I swore to never forgive myself because of it.

I thought branding her initials on my hand would help, make sure I always remembered how far I fell and to never fall that far again. A damn good that did, I was worse than then when I was roped into all this.

I didn't want to admit it but the truth it...the truth is I can be just as bad as Comstock, I could be just as deluded as that man in the end if I thought like he did. If I thought I could be forgiven for all my sins by a dunk in some dirty water.

He thought himself a Prophet, chosen by God to be reborn after the horrors he...no I, did at Wounded Knee. He was the Prophet of God and my daughter was his Lamb.

I can't let that happen, I can't let a little girl go through that type of hell.

_"...it was time..."_

She was right, that future she brought me to was the beginning of hell for everyone, something she was living for decades when I failed, when Songbird stopped me. Time breaks every thing, every man, woman, and child falls to time. I sure as hell did. I used to be a good man, I used to try and stand for what was right but the war...what I did...the people I killed...

Time broke me, time made me a man desperate for anything to change, desperate to find salvation and that baptism offered it but I refused it. A fool like me doesn't deserve salvation, a fool like me deserved to die alone, something I was on the way to doing before THEY found me, before they sent me to Columbia, before...before I met Elizabeth.

I don't know when it started but she...that girl changed me. She made me want to be better, to protect her from all the people who wanted to use her, who wanted to hurt her, I wanted to help her.

God, I'm such a fool. Such a great damn fool.

If I really wanted to protect her, if I really wanted to keep her safe, I should have done more. Because of me she's done terrible things, she's taken lives, seen me kill people almost ever since I freed her. And...because of me...she had a taste of hell. For six months she was in hell.

Because of me, because of Comstock.

The only way to end this, the only way to stop what I've done, what I COULD do, what I can turn into..I..I...

"Smother him in the crib."

"Smother."

"Smother."

"Smother."

"Smother."

The only way to stop all of this, to stop everything I've seen, to stop the future I saw, to stop all the deaths, all the pain, all the suffering.

"Before the choice is made. Before you are reborn."

I...I know what I have to do. I know what needs to be done. I know how to stop it all before it even began.

"He's Zachary Comstock." No, that's not right.

"He's Booker DeWitt." No, that's not right either, I'm...I'm...

"No," I know who I really am, I'm not Booker DeWitt or Zachary Comstock because in the end...

"I'm both."

The waters not as cold as I would think when they dunk me under. But, in a way, this type of ending is fitting.

These waters reborn Booker DeWitt as Zachary Comstock and would now end both. No one would have to suffer under that man anymore, no Elizabeth will be put through all that pain again. And Anna...I just pray she wouldn't be the daughter of such a great damn fool again.

My vision, it's...it's growing dark. Everything feels...odd, as if I'm...I can't describe it...it's too odd to describe...

The feeling of wanting air in your lungs but not getting any, only a cold wet feeling flooding them with every breath you take. No matter how much you would think you would crave air it never comes, only the water.

Now, as I feel myself dying I guess I should have a last thought, something important but I don't...All I can say is I'm...I'm...No, all I can say is...

Goodbye Anna.

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AN: Well, that's it. I'll admit it probably could be better but I guess that's why I write this stuff, to improve.

Peace.


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